Inside the Mind of Bobby Drake
by SlverShdws
Summary: Bobby's got multiple personalities and they're all telling him one thing get Roberto. So what's an Iceman to do but obey?
1. The Beginning

            Author's Note**

                        This is a warning. You are about to take a journey through the convoluted mind of one fifteen year old Bobby "Iceman" Drake. Everyone knows what Bobby is like on the outside, but no one has any idea what goes on inside his head. And hopefully, they'll never find out. 

            _Let's go out to the movies._

_            Let's go out to the movies. _

_            Let's go out to the movies . . . and have ourselves a snack._

            Hmmm. Snack. I could go for a snack right now. What time is it? Almost four . . . I've got a Danger Room session with Wolverine at four. I better go down to the kitchen now because by the time I get done with that I'm going to be too busted up to move.

            Now that that's settled, what incredibly ingenious way should I use this time to ride to the kitchen? Ice wave? Ice patch? Ice skateboard? Wait, don't I have a mental note somewhere about that? Right, here it is. Bobby- don't ever make an ice skateboard again or Rogue will be very, VERY upset. That would be bad. Okay. Yanno, she's kinda scary. Someone who's big and strong and fast should probably let her know. I could do it, but I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. Plus, I'm way too busy thinking up ways to torture Roberto for sticking that fish in my bed the other day. That reminds me. The voodoo doll that Kitty showed me how to make should be all dry in a couple more hours maybe. All I need is a big fat pin to jab into it and then Roberto will be sorry he ever played a trick on me. Nobody puts a fish in Iceman's bed and gets away with it scot free. We's will smash him. . . SMASH HIM!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

            Huh? What was I thinking about again? I'm at the top of the staircase and I was going . . . somewhere. Hmmm. I can't remember. Oh well. What time is it? Almost four. I have a Danger Room session with Wolverine at four. I better get something to eat before I go because I'm going to be too busted up afterwards to move.

            Now that that's settled, what incredibly ingenious way should I used this time to ride into the kitchen? Ice wave? Ice patch? Ice skateboard – wait a minute. This seems really familiar. Doesn't it? I can't remember. Oh well. Ice skateboard it is then. 

            _Let's go out to the movies._

_            Let's go out to the movies._

_            Let's go out to the movies . . . . and have ourselves a snack._

            "Bombs away!"

            Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! The only way to travel! Wait a sec . . . is that someone at the bottom? Crap.

            *CRASH* *POW* *OOMPH* 

            "Goddamit Bobby! Ah told ya neva to make this stupid thing again. Ya nearly killed me."

            *SNAP*

            Aww man, she just busted my ice board. On her head. Jesus she really is scary. She could really benefit from anger management class. Whoa there Bobbo, you didn't actually say that out loud, did you? Look at her face. She looks pissed, but not too violent so I guess you're okay. That was close though. Don't say anything back. Just look sheepish and wait for her to pass. Any verbalization of what you are thinking will get you killed. And if you're killed, you can't go on a mad rampage of the city, can you?

            Mad rampage of the city? What? Who are you?

            I'm you.

            Me? But I thought I was me.

            You are. And I am too. 

            And me. Don't forget me. 

            Wait, now I'm confused. 

            That's why you have us. 

How many of you, or me, are there?

Look, you're already confused enough so don't think about it anymore. Listen up; this is what we're going to do. We're going to go to the kitchen and have ourselves a tasty little snack so we can shut your friggin' stomach up. And then the real work is going to begin.

            Real work? 

            Shhhh. He gets like this sometimes, so just let him talk.

            Jesus, why do you always do that to me? You're always bringing me down, you know?

            I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. Go ahead. I won't say another word.

            Good. Now where was I?

            You said something about real work?

            Right, right. This is the plan. We're going to take care of Roberto once and for all. The voodoo doll is a nice touch, but he deserves more than that, for all his little comments. We're going to get him good.

            Uh . . . wait. I don't think I like the sound of that. I mean, Roberto's my teammate. Sure he can be kind of a jerk sometimes, but we're on the same side.

            Oh really? Well kiddo, let me tell you something and it's going to be quite a shocker. 

            I don't know if you should tell him that. It might upset him.

            The kid's gotta learn to deal with things that upset him. Life isn't always oranges and bananas.

            What the hell are you talking about? How did you get in my head in the first place?

            That's not important. Anyway, you know those purple turtles that keep coming after you, trying to eat you whenever you try to go to sleep?

            What about them?

            Roberto's their leader. He's the one whose been sending them after you.

            What! THAT BASTARD! WHERE IS HE?!

            See? Now look what you've done. You've got him all crazy.

            Shaddup, will ya? Damn you get on my nerves sometimes. Hey, Bobbo calm down there. Running off after him now isn't going to solve anything. I told ya, we got a plan and it's brilliant. Because you're brilliant Bobbo.

            That's why they call me Iceman.

            . . . .Riighhttt. Anyways, here's what we're gonna do. So pay attention.


	2. The End

            Author's Note**

                        Sorry it took so long to get this little ending up but vacation popped up. It's weird, I know but hey, who knows where thoughts come from, they just appear.

            Inside the hospital wing of the Charles Xavier Institute for Gifted Students there was a small room with one bed and walls made of a foamy grey material. On the door leading into this room there was a small window that several of the X-men had their faced pressed up against. Sam, Tabitha, Jamie, and Amara were all looking in on Roberto who was currently curled up against the padded wall with his hands over his head. He rocked backed and forth and every so often he would mumble and shake his dark haired head.

            "So, what happened to him anyway?" Amara asked in a whisper. She had this really weird feeling that if Roberto heard her he might charge the door and start foaming at the mouth. Behind her Sam shrugged and brushed a bit of his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

            "I don't know. I went past his room this afternoon and he was thrashing around and going on about  . . . um . . . voodoo dolls, Raisinettes, and purple turtles."

            Inside the room Roberto began to sing softly to himself, so that those outside could just barely hear him.

            _"Let's go out to the movies. Let's go out to the movies. Let's go out to the movies . . . and have ourselves a snack."_

            "Purple turtles?" Jamie asked with a frown. He wiggled his way in front of Amara and hopped up and down, trying to see through the window. "Wasn't someone else talking about purple turtles a little while ago?" He stopped jumping and shook his head. "This is getting me nowhere. Somebody get me a booster seat."

            Ignoring his last request, Tabitha bobbed her head fervorently in agreement. "Hey, yeah. Yeah didn't Bobby mention something about turtles the other day? Something about them eating his toes?"

            The four X-men present exchanged nods of agreement. Then the sound of falling footsteps reached their ears, followed by a very familiar catchy little movie tune. 

            _"Let's go out to the movies. Let's go out to the movies. Let's go out to the movies . . . and have ourselves a snack."_

_            They all turned around in time to see Bobby turn the corner. At first he didn't notice them; it wasn't until he came within a few feet that he glanced up to see them staring at him with mirroring expression of accusation on their faces. He stopped dead in his tracks._

            "What?" he asked.

            Tabitha stepped forward with one finger out stretched and pointed at his chest. "Did you do something to Roberto?" she demanded. Guilt washed over Bobby's face and he shrunk back as the others continued to stare at him.

            "Uh . . . what?"

            "Come on Bobby, what didja do to him?"

            "No . . . nothing," he asserted, sticking his hands in his pockets and doing his best to appear innocent. Always willing to play games, Tabitha raised an eyebrow and conjured up several of her exploding plasma spheres.

            "Come on Bobby," she repeated, tossing them up and down. Bobby's wide eyes followed the motion for a moment, as his attention was quite easily captured. Then his gaze held steady and focused in on her, a smirk gracing his lips.

            "What did Bobby do? Oh. . nothing but give little Roberto a taste of his own purple medicine. AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He burst out laughing like he had made some private joke and the others all stared in bafflement. "And now we will do the same to the rest of the WORLD! AHAHAHAHAHA! THE WORLD! All the world will BURN and TREMBLE beneath the FURY of the purple turtles! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

            And with that, the mutant known as Iceman threw his hands up over his head and took off screaming his hysterical laughter. They could hear him as he disappeared around the corner and ran farther into the mansion. How could you not hear that craziness? 

            Abruptly though, it cut off. The four all stared at the place where Bobby had been standing with raised brows, each wondering just what the hell had just happened. They had all known that Bobby was a little . . . strange and violent at times, but they had never suspected that he might be nuts. What could have driven him to cause hurt to Roberto? Drugs? A brain tumor? Saturday morning cartoons? Oh, the humanity of it all! The world we live in is so wrought with horrors and-

            Ah, forget it.

            A few moments later Rogue appeared, one hand on her hip, looking as usual vaguely annoyed. 

            "Well what the hell was he screamin' 'bout? Betta not be those freakin' turtles again."


End file.
